Birth of a Legend: Sleipnir
by Iris Musicia
Summary: Torn from his newly-born child and held hostage by his father, Loki seeks an escape while Thor and Frigga play espionage to help free Loki and prevent the remarkable foal Sleipnir from falling into Odin's hands. Partial Horse!Loki. Full statement inside- NO MPREG or SLASH!
1. Welcome, Sleipnir

**This takes place during _Thor_, on Asgard, but is listed as an Avengers crossover so that more people can find it, as all the characters are equally applicable. **

**There is NO SLASH in this story. There is NO GRAPHIC MPREG. There _is_ a GRAPHIC FOALING SCENE, so beware. **

**Includes horse!Loki for a good part of the story, but he is in his "human" form for a pretty considerable portion as well.**

**XXX**

**XXX**

Heavy panting filled the room.

"Oh, hell," someone moaned, and straw rustled.

Upon closer inspection, one could find a lithe, dark-haired figure lying in a deep bed of straw in the darkness. The person trembled violently, hands clenching and unclenching rapidly, back arching, feet kicking. They gritted their teeth and stilled for a moment, before biting down a moan of pain as the tremors redoubled. The breathing came deeply, but was shaking and forced in pain. A thin whine pierced the air.

Between the cracks in the double door, torchlight filtered in and illuminated a drawn face shining with perspiration, eyes hollowed and dull in pain. They couldn't help it when a low, constant moan eased out from between their teeth, in and out with their labored breathing. The torchlight became more intense, and heavy footsteps stomped down the barn aisle, coming closer to the door.

The person's face contorted in agony and a strangled yell escaped their throat.

Suddenly, the stable doors flung inwards and a tall, burly, blonde man with a bright torch in his fist stood in the doorway, gazing down at the tortured person in the straw.

"Loki," he breathed, putting the torch in the bracket and rushing to the person's side, falling to his knees by Loki's head. "Brother, what is wrong?"

"Get Frigga," Loki gasped in between shaking breaths. "Thor, please."

The imploring look on Loki's face sent Thor flying for their mother, Frigga, immediately. He burst into the throne room and saw his parents, Odin and Frigga, seated on their thrones, seeing the last of the day's visitors out. Composing himself, Thor strode up to Frigga, and when Odin was not watching, gave her a message:

"Loki needs your assistance. He is the largest stall in the broodmare stables. He looks to be in great agony."

Frigga nodded, almost imperceptibly, and went to Odin, grasping his elbow lightly to gain his attention, "Odin, I must retire now. I grow weary from today's hearings."

Odin nodded and gestured off towards the door, looking preoccupied. Frigga and Thor wasted no time in leaving the throne room. The second the massive doors had closed behind them, Thor took off in a dead sprint with Frigga right behind him.

Loki was just as Thor had left him: shaking and moaning in the straw in the largest stall of the stable, except now he'd stripped most of his armor, boots, and cloak, and it lay discarded not six inches from him. Frigga went to him, kneeling on one side, with Thor on the opposite. Frigga looked up from her younger son's face and frowned at Thor for blocking the light. Self-consciously, Thor moved out of the way.

"Loki. Loki, look at me," Frigga said softly, and Loki's eyes darted to her face. "Good. What is wrong? Were you poisoned? Injured?"

"No," the god of mischief panted, his breath now shallow and harsh. "So hot," he moaned and tugged weakly at the hem of his shirt before Frigga helped him pull it off. Pushing at the waistband of his pants, Thor helped him by pulling them off by the ankles. He preserved some of his poor brother's modesty with a well-placed pile of straw.

"Where does it hurt?" Frigga watched as Loki's tight fists moved to his lower abdomen. Pressing over his flat abdomen, she heard his sharp intake of breath when she reached the area just below his navel. "What does it feel like?"

"Sharp, dull ache," Loki breathed, then his breath caught. His eyes widened and his mouth gaped, shallow breaths choking in his throat, frozen for a moment. Then his face contorted into a mask of absolute torture and he convulsed, trying to double over. "Comes in waves," he barely managed to bite out.

Then a bell rung in Frigga's head, and her face slackened in shock.

"What form did it happen in?"

Loki looked confused, but his sharp mind put it together quickly and he whispered, "horse."

"'_What form?_' Brother, you change shape?" Thor looked upset at being so far behind the curve.

"Yes, he is a shape changer. Now quickly, get some cloth—big sheets, long lengths. Move!" Frigga snapped at Thor, who scrambled to comply after looking stunned.

"Loki, listen very carefully to me, love," Loki's eyes flitted back to Frigga's face, lidded with pain. "I need you to take the exact form you were in when it happened. This body will not allow you to birth the foal."

Thor came back with the requested items. Frigga looked up momentarily, long enough to ask Thor to pass her a long bandage. Loki took a deep breath and steeled himself, and in a haze of gold light, Loki became a horse.

The lean, white mare sprawled out over the straw, inky-black mane and tail splayed. Her flanks and neck were already grey with sweat, and her belly was massive. It became immediately apparent to Thor, who knew much about horses, that this mare was pregnant, and in labor.

Thor eyed the bandage in Frigga's hands, and took it from her. "I know how to take care of a horse better than you do, mother," he said, getting to business.

"Just remember . . . this is not a horse, this is your brother. Respect him." Frigga retreated a step to watch Thor, and step in if needed.

The god of thunder discarded his cape and armor on his arms, tossing them aside into the straw. He wrapped up the mare's tail with the bandage, pushing it out of the way. Then he moved around to her head.

"Brother, you must trust me on this. Nothing will change between us. Let me help you, and, for the love of Valhalla, do not kick me," Thor said with a hint of humor. The mare, Loki, lifted her head slightly and snorted at Thor, then glanced at her barrel before lowering her head to the straw again, as if in shame.

Frigga saw her opportunity to help. Shooing Thor away, she knelt down and took Loki's head into her lap, stroking her soft, white fur, patting her flat cheek, wiping away the condensation that dripped from the mare's nose because of the cold breath on hot skin.

"It's all right, Loki. Nobody will ever know about this, except myself and your brother," Frigga said softly, continuing in a stream of soothing words, stroking Loki's forelock and ears.

Thor watched Loki's ears as he patted her barrel gently, then her flanks, then her rump. The mare's ears stayed focused on Thor, only occasionally flicking forwards to hear what Frigga was murmuring. Her breathing was still heavy and labored, and occasionally she would groan, her whole body tightening and legs straightening.

"Hold Loki's head," Thor cautioned, and Frigga wrapped her arms around the mare's neck. He put his hand on the mare and her tail clamped down. Sighing, "I'm sorry, brother," he removed Loki's tail and reached inside.

Loki gave a sharp snort and struggled to sit up, fighting Frigga's grip. She kicked with her back legs, letting out a shrill whinny before Frigga silenced her. "Whoa, Loki, whoa, calm down, it is for the best," Frigga said, wrestling the mare's head back down. Loki rolled her eyes back, trying to see Thor.

"Do not kick me!" Thor called up to Loki's head. Loki gave a long, quavering snort but held her back legs still. He fumbled around and finally felt what he was looking for: the foal. He expected to feel two hooves, a sign that the foal was in the correct position, but instead he felt four.

Moving back around to Frigga, he said to both, "the foal must have all four feet coming. That will not hurt it, but it might be a deal more painful for you, Loki." Thor looked regretful as Loki's expression took on a panicked look, and he noted that there was white froth dripping from the mare's mouth. She was in considerable amounts of pain already; much more than she let on.

"From mother to daughter . . . or rather, son-as-a-daughter, you need to let the professional, in this case, Thor, take care of you. It is humiliating sometimes, but it is the only way you and the foal will get through this quickly and safely. When I gave birth, everybody could see my face and there were over fifty people present. Be glad you do not have an audience, Loki," Frigga said soberly.

"And whenever you feel the urge to, push." Thor backed up several steps, taking care to step over the mare's long, black-socked legs. He could tell whenever Loki pushed, because her body would look tense and frozen for a minute, and she would huff, then relax. When Thor saw the foal's tiny hooves, shrouded in the bluish amniotic sac, and all looked to be going well, all hell broke loose.

Loki let out loud, panicked neighs and scrambled to her feet, pacing around, throwing her body against the stall walls. She pawed the air violently and twisted her neck around, huffing at her distended barrel before letting loose a particularly shrill screech. Frigga jumped to her feet, as did Thor, and they moved cautiously towards Loki. Loki watched them a moment and gave a breathy whinny, then barged forward, crazed with pain and panic. Her knees buckled and only Frigga's quick action saved her from falling heavily to the ground. Thor motioned for Frigga to hold his brother's head still and keep her down while he reached back inside.

The slick membrane surrounding the foal gave Thor no purchase, and he grasped at it in vain, afraid he was going to break its bones if he continued. He withdrew, up to his elbows in blood and water and mucous, and used the sharp point on his discarded arm guards to break the amniotic sac. Now he was able to pull the sac away from the foal and toss it into the straw. For the final time, Thor plunged his hands inside and grasped the foal's angular body, pulling it clear of Loki's body.

Loki gave an exhausted huff and closed her eyes, breathing calming. Contractions still made her body taut occasionally, but she looked markedly more calm than she had been fifteen minutes ago. Frigga reached her hand around under Loki's chin and felt her pulse; it was slowing at a startling rate, approaching the point where she would die.

"Loki, mare, get up," Frigga said sharply, and Loki's eyes opened slightly and her ears flicked lazily towards Frigga's voice. "Up, mare, up!"

"Stand up, you beast, you! Animal! Mare!" Thor shouted, waving his arms. Loki, startled and angered, scrambled up and stood with her feet planted wide and head hanging low, nose touching the dark, wet fur of her newborn foal. Though incredibly fatigued, the mare's ears were pricked and eyes were bright as Thor's and Frigga's as she took in the foal's look. Quite simply, it had eight legs.

"Well? Aren't you going to lick it?" Frigga asked. Loki gave her a look and flattened her ears slightly, but licked the foal with long, rhythmic strokes. The mare kept her eyes on Thor and Frigga the entire time, seeming to ask, "do you approve?"

The foal whinnied blearily, a tiny, innocent noise that made Loki prick her ears curiously. It started to totter to its feet, propping its four back legs up and staggering into a wobbly standing position. Its fluffy, eight-legged appearance reminded Thor all the world of a little, wet spider and he burst into laughter before a murderous, flat-eared glare from Loki silenced him.

The mare licked the foal more gently now that it stood, watching warily as Thor checked its gender.

"Congratulations, brother, you have a fine young colt."

Loki gave a soft snort and continued licking, then nudged the colt towards her belly. Thor put his hands on its chest and rump, carefully guiding it to Loki's flank, where it could feed. Once the colt was situated, all the tension left Loki's body. The great, white mare raised her head, looking down on Thor, dwarfing him. Her pale green eyes regarded him with an intelligent glitter and she stretched her muzzle towards him, whuffling his hair softly, running her nose over his face gently.

Thor smiled in appreciation, taking his brother's actions as a "thank you," but Loki's nose had still been covered in water and mucous from the foal, and he scrubbed at his wet face with a corner of his cape, rather sheepishly. Loki made a soft chuffing noise that sounded like laughter.

Suddenly, though, the calm bent of her body was replaced with tension, like a twisted spring. She quivered, raising her head a good two feet over Thor's, eyes alight and ears straining to hear. Loki's breathing stilled, and Thor and Frigga found themselves holding their breath as well.

Then Loki snapped out of her trance, violently, almost kicking her colt in the process of charging towards the door. She reared up, striking at the wood with her hooves, gouging and stressing the material with deep dents. Loki tossed her head, hitting it on the rafters, forcing her to drop back down.

Thinking quickly, Frigga snatched the foal and held it to her chest, while Thor grabbed the extra halter hanging on the wall and buckled it over his brother's face. Loki thrashed fiercely, and Thor yanked hard on the halter, the sharp sound of leather slapping against skin ringing out. Loki stilled momentarily, and Thor said, "whoa, there, mare."

Pinning her ears and baring her teeth, Loki bit Thor viciously, sinking her teeth into his shoulder. Thor gritted his teeth and smacked hard at Loki's nose, and Frigga watched in quiet horror. One of her sons was going to get very hurt very soon if this did not cease.

Left with no other options, Thor wrenched open the door and led a prancing, nervous Loki down the aisle into an empty stall. "I don't know what's gotten into you, brother, but you must stop this. Now you must remain here until you pass the afterbirth and relax, else you pose a danger to myself, Frigga, and your foal," Thor said solemnly, breathing heavily. Loki pinned her ears and lunged at Thor, who just managed to duck out of the stall.

Thor leaned against the wood of the door, listening to Loki pound on the other side angrily with her hooves, catching his breath, when he heard someone clear their throat. Thor looked up cautiously, eyes travelling up the body of Odin.

"What are you doing here, Thor?" Odin asked simply, not angry.

"I-I … uh …" Thor scrambled, and it became painfully obvious why _Loki_ was the god of lies, and not he. "There was a mare in foal … and I came to … assist … what are you doing here, father?"

"Out of season? All my mares should have been bred last week," Odin pointed out, giving Thor a suspicious look. "Anyways, I heard a commotion. I thought I heard screaming, so I came. But what about his mare?"

"She was … new. You just bought her. She must've been with foal when you … acquired her." Thor tried to keep his face neutral, gauging Odin's reaction.

"That stocky bay thing?" Odin's one eye narrowed, trying to remember.

"The exact one," Thor winced as he heard Loki give an indignant neigh, slamming both her feet into the door. "She's not a very good mother, though. I had to put her in here; she was endangering the foal."

"First-time dams never are," Odin sniffed, "but next year we'll breed her on time and she'll be better, doubtless." Loki gave a particularly harsh bray and the whole wall shuddered. "Exactly how big is this animal?"

"Uh … pretty big, I suppose," Thor lied uneasily, changing the subject quickly. "The foal is down in yonder stall, if you wish to lay eyes on it."

Odin nodded and set off in the opposite direction, while Thor scrambled to retrieve his brother's clothes, informing Frigga quickly of the situation. Thor had to dodge dangerously flying hooves as he entered Loki's stall and threw the clothes down. The mare sniffed disdainfully, but in a cloud of gold light, transfigured back into Loki.

"I was _trying_ to tell you, brother, that Odin was coming, but _some people_ just don't listen," Loki said peevishly, tugging on his clothes hurriedly. "The afterbirth is over there," he gestured to the far corner. Thor kicked some straw over it, muttering,

"The stalls will be mucked out later."

Loki, fully dressed, covered in straw, glistening with sweat, and looking dead beat, pushed past Thor and stuck his head into the aisle, scanning for Odin. The coast was clear, and Loki sneaked into the aisle, tiptoeing towards the stall where the foal really waited. Thor hung back, waiting for Odin.

Slipping into the stall, Loki fell to his knees in front of Frigga, grasping at the foal. "Oh, you are precious," Loki murmured in awe, placing a kiss on the tiny baby's forehead. It gave a soft bleat and nuzzled at him, looking for more milk.

"I'm sorry, this body doesn't have what you seek," Loki said, the expression on his face one of absolute rapture. He looked up at Frigga, and a bond of motherhood and joy ran between them suddenly.

"It truly is a miracle, Loki," Frigga said softly, running her fingers down the colt's long, skinny legs. "What will you name him?"

"He was a slippery little thing. Slipper? No … Sleipnir." Loki settled on the name decisively, a contented grin spreading across his face as the newly-named Sleipnir suckled on his fingers. The moment was the most precious, pure moment Loki had ever experienced in his life. He was truly blissful at that moment.

Until Thor and Odin barged in. Odin cast a confused glance at Frigga, who shrugged.

Then Odin's eyes alighted on the precious creature, and a greedy look flashed across his features, not missed by Loki, who clutched his baby closer to him. Odin settled himself so that he could see the foal clearly, running calloused hands over its body.

"I wonder who that mare was bred to. Must have been a truly extraordinary sire," Odin muttered.

"Or a truly extraordinary dam," Loki said defensively, shooting Odin a glare.

"I would not say its dam is extraordinary. She is really … very ordinary. Nothing more than a broodmare." Odin responded, unaware of the rage that flashed across Loki's face. Looking over Odin's shoulder, Thor shot Loki a look that said, "calm yourself."

Breathing deeply, Loki calmed down, but still held Sleipnir possessively. The colt twisted in Loki's arms, running his tiny muzzle up and down Loki's face and neck, as if examining or searching him.

"Yes, you know who I am, little one," Loki murmured almost lovingly, bowing his head to place a kiss on the foal's back. Odin regarded him oddly.

"This foal's appearance suits him well. I think I will name him—" Odin was interrupted by Loki's quiet, venomous voice.

"Sleipnir."

"What did you say, son?" Odin's voice had a faintly dangerous ring to it. Loki looked up from his precious Sleipnir, eyes dark, sunken by the circles of exhaustion beneath them, cheeks hollow, face drawn and pale, yet intimidating. His body radiated cold fury, completely palpable; frost crackled over the straw.

"This foal's name is Sleipnir, and I _forbid you_ to call him by any other name," Loki hissed. Odin was taken aback at his son's sudden hatred.

"You seem to be very attached," Odin pointed out with a furrowed brow, bemused.

"I have labored long and hard in delivering this foal; I feel a sense of pride at its fine health," Loki said simply. Odin shot a look at Thor.

"That runs contrary to what your brother has said to me. He claims he had to pull this ... Sleipnir ... from inside the mare," Odin said, and Thor held up his hands, covered in dry blood and amniotic fluid.

"I assure you, my part was just as important, if not moreso," Loki said haughtily, and Frigga quickly intervened.

"It was indeed, both princes helped to birth this foal." Loki noted Frigga's choice of words and smirked. He could very well have been blood related to her, what with her equally silver tongue.

"Fine, fine, then, Sleipnir he shall be. Will his dam accept him?" Odin asked, holding his hands up placatingly towards Frigga and Loki.

Frigga shared a look with Loki before saying uncomfortably, "I believe she cannot, or will not. Sleipnir must be given a surrogate dam."

Loki bowed his head, biting his lip furiously, drawing blood. A single tear tracked down his cheek and splashed onto Sleipnir's fluffed, grey coat. The foal squirmed at the feeling and broke away from Loki's grip, gallivanting about the stall with an easy grace unknown to normal foals.

"Then it is a good thing we have a nanny mare," Odin said simply, reaching out and patting Sleipnir's little neck before rising with cracking joints and making his way out of the stall. Once the All-Father had left the barn, Loki let a sob escape his lips.

"Loki, my son, what troubles you?" Frigga asked gently. Sleipnir bounded over, pawing at Loki's hands with two tiny hooves. Loki rubbed his fingers over the foal's narrow face affectionately, the action tinged with sadness.

"I cannot keep my child," he said despondently. "I am a new mother, and I am failing ..."

"Fear not, Loki, we will find a way for you to be with your babe," Thor said confidently, gathering his shedded armor from the straw. "There is no way we will keep mother and child apart."

Loki gave a terse smile. "I hope you are right, brother."

XXX

Loki slept for two days after Sleipnir's birth; Frigga said he deserved it. "Birth is particularly exhausting, not that men would know," she'd said imperiously, her look conveying the essence of the beautiful Female Mystery. Thor had surrendered and obeyed Frigga's every wish for her newly-made-mother son.

The two days were filled with confusing, fractured dreams for Loki, punctuated by ill-recalled flashes of lucidity as Thor or Frigga woke him to allow him to eat, drink, and relieve himself. When he finally awoke on the second day, he felt better than he had on the night of his son's birth, but a sense of despondency weighed heavily on his heart.

Lying in bed, staring up at the vaulted ceiling of his room, Loki struggled to remember why he felt so _blue_. Then it hit him like a Frost Beast. Odin meant to take Sleipnir as his own horse; the look of greed on the All-Father's face at first sight of Sleipnir had communicated nothing less to the perceptive new mother, Loki.

The first moment he was able to sit up and speak coherently, Loki demanded to be let outside. Thor laughed at his brother's impetuous tone, but had obeyed his wish, as per Frigga's orders. Once outside, Loki breathed in the clean, Asgardian air, a haze of golden magic consuming him before Thor could protest.

"Don't waste your strength, brother," Thor cautioned to the impossibly elegant, angular mare that towered over him. She tossed her head and snorted flippantly, trotting off towards the other horses. Needless to say, they were quite spooked when she sailed over the fence with the utmost ease.

Sleipnir seemed to recognize Loki and came running up to his mother eagerly, and Thor saw the uncanny resemblance: both were lean, angular, and positively regal, moving with divine ease and fluid grace. Sleipnir's extra legs did not seem to hinder him in the least; in no time, Loki was galloping to keep up with her ambling, excited colt.

The two flew around the field together, the perfect picture of freedom and joy. Loki was truly happy with her foal, if the way she carried her tail, streaming like a banner behind her, and the gleam in her eyes were any indication.

Finally, Sleipnir tired and tumbled to the ground in a tangle of long legs. Loki skidded to a stop, anxiously nuzzling her colt, who popped his head up and whinnied happily. Relieved, Loki stood protectively over her firstborn as the colt struggled to his feet and nursed.

Completely absorbed in watching his brother, Thor was unaware of Odin coming up behind him.

"Where did that mare come from?" Odin asked suddenly, and Thor jumped slightly.

"Oh—I-I didn't ... notice her ..." Thor lied uneasily, and Odin gave him a plain look.

"Leave the lying to your brother, Thor, you are awful at it. Tell me more about that mare, though. I desire her. Perhaps she would make a good mount for Frigga," Odin said pensively, and Thor fidgeted uncomfortably.

He wanted so badly to spill the truth to Odin, to have this weight of lie taken off of his back, yet at the same time, Frigga had bound him to secrecy. "It is critical," she had whispered to him urgently, "that nobody knows of your brother's shape-changing. They will kill him if they knew."

"She ... must be ... one of the last year's fillies," Thor said slowly, testing the words for truth. Odin gave him a look.

"You are lying, Thor," he said simply. "Is it a wild mare? I will not be upset if she is one of Asgard's Fabled. In fact, if she is of the Fabled, it only makes her better," Odin stroked his beard contemplatively.

"She is certainly wild," Thor mused sadly as Loki noticed Odin and moved to shield Sleipnir from him. Even at this distance, the mare's green eyes were piercingly clear. She drew herself up to her considerable height and trumpeted at Odin, a clear and harsh challenge.

_You just **try** to take him, try to snatch him from my flank!_ Loki seemed to declare, prancing over to the fence. Sleipnir ambled after her, gazing good-naturedly at Odin and Thor, even calling a friendly whinny to Thor.

Thor chuckled at the little foal's antics and went to pat him. Right when he was only a horse-length from the fence, Odin called out,

"Do not go closer, son! The Fabled are proud creatures—to touch her son would be death!"

Loki tossed her head proudly, and seemed to be nodding, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"Loki was right when he claimed an extraordinary dam," Odin breathed, creeping closer. His hand moved to Gungnir, and Thor tensed. He did not know what his father was plotting, but it didn't seem to spell anything good for Loki. Moving with blinding speed, the All-Father fired a golden blast at Loki.

Enraged, Loki reared up, intending to leap over the fence and trample the man who dared threaten her and her foal, but the magic seized her body. Stupefied, she fell, crashing heavily into the fence, splintering the stout timbers as if they were matchsticks.

Sleipnir neighed in panic, rushing to snuffle his fallen mother. He was distraught, pawing at her great, fallen body with all four of his tiny front hooves. Thor reached out and grasped Sleipnir, lifting him up and holding his spindly body to his chest as Odin summoned guards to drag Loki's body to the stables.

Thor watched on tenterhooks as a sledge and two solid draft horses were procured and the limp body of his brother was loaded onto it. Loki was hauled away, long legs dangling off the edges of the sledge, tongue lolling out of her mouth. He was forced to replace the squirming Sleipnir when his nanny came over, calling urgently for her young charge. Sleipnir bounded over to the nanny, trembling all over, seeking milk in reassurance.

The moment Odin was out of sight, Thor took off to inform Frigga of this startling turn of events: Loki had been captured by their father.

XXX

XXX

**Sleipnir will not take a human form, nor will he inherit any of Loki's magic. "The Fabled" are something I came up with to explain Odin's fascination with the wild horses. Let's just say they're gods among horses, and highly revered by Asgardians.**


	2. Hello, Skada

**Thank you for the wonderful reviews! Just an OC alert, there is a new OC from here on out named Skada, a convenient little plot device and punching bag for Loki later on. **

**Skada is Swedish for "damage".**

**XXX**

**XXX**

Loki awoke to an ache over her whole body, stretching out her legs in a bed of straw. She snorted and sat up, gazing around blearily, trying to gain her bearings. With a sharp jolt, she realized where she was: in the Royal Stables. Then everything came crashing down on her.

Loki running with Sleipnir, Sleipnir playing with Thor, Thor talking with Odin, Odin stunning Loki.

Mind suddenly running a hundred miles an hour, Loki staggered to her feet and stuck her head over the half-door, looking down the barn aisle. A few other horses had their heads hanging into the aisle, but there were no people in sight. Loki neighed loudly, and she heard her call ring through the barn before a few whinnies were tossed in reply.

_What have I gotten myself into? I can't just go up to Father and say, 'by the way, I am the **mother** of the eight-legged colt, and I'm also a shape-changer.' That would be a fantastic conversation_, Loki thought to herself. Cautiously this time, She looked around the barn before changing back to his normal shape, albeit without clothing or armor.

Loki vaulted over the door and darted into the nearest tack room, wrapping a musty horse blanket around himself. He hoped to Valhalla that nobody saw him in such a compromising position.

_If they do, though_, Loki thought murderously, _they will wish they never had._

Hesitantly, Loki made his way out of the barn and sneaked in the servant's entrance. He encountered only one scullery maid, and had to dive into an alcove to avoid her. Even then, she'd seen a flash of his movement and peered into the shadows curiously, but someone down the hall had called her name, and she rushed off. Loki gave a sigh of relief and continued his stealthy way to his rooms.

Once he reached his chambers, he slammed the doors and slumped down in reprieve, closing his eyes and huffing.

"Good afternoon, Loki."

Loki nearly jumped out of his skin, eyes the size of tea saucers, jerking the blanket tighter around him as he was greeted with the shocking sight of Odin himself perched on the edge of his bed.

"Father! May I ask why I have the pleasure of seeing you here?" Loki recovered quickly, pushing himself into a standing position against the door, trying to regain some shreds of his dignity.

"I may ask you the same thing, my son." Odin surveyed Loki for a moment, gazing critically at the dusty horse blanket. Loki refrained from biting his lip in nervousness.

"Simply put," Loki said slowly, sighing for effect, "Skada stole my clothes."

Odin's eyebrows arched disbelievingly. "How would she have taken them off your body?"

"She can be quite the little minx, you know," Loki said seriously, nodding. Odin didn't know whether to burst out laughing or grimace.

"Really, Loki? This early in the day?"

"Oh, no! Not like _that_," Loki protested, eyes wide again. "Skada put me under the impression we were going swimming together, in that pond by the barn ... and _then_ she stole my clothes."

"I see," Odin said mirthfully, highly amused by his son's plight. "Well, find yourself some fresh clothes, then go hunt Skada down. Doubtless she's off having great fun somewhere."

"Of course, Father," Loki bowed his head. "But again, may I ask why _you_ are here?"

"I merely came by to see where you were. I hadn't seen you since the birth of that new colt, Sleipnir, and I wanted to ensure you were in good health," Odin said simply. Loki felt some of the tension leave his body. His father had no idea that he was Sleipnir's mother, and he intended to keep it that way.

"Well, if that's all, I think perhaps you should be on your way," Loki said, not impolitely. Odin stood slowly and moved towards the door. He paused with his hand on the wrought iron handle, remembering something.

"Oh, and I thought you ought to know: there was a Fabled mare in the pasture today. Thor and I managed to subdue her. She's in the Royal Stables, if you'd like to look upon her. Quite comely, if I do say so myself. I might pay her a visit later, after Court, and see how she's doing. In fact, I plan to break her for Frigga's mount," Odin said lightly, eye gleaming with excitement. Loki schooled his features into an expression of equal surprise and enthusiasm, while inside his heart turned to lead.

"Valhalla, that is fantastic! A Fabled? Really? Has Thor been to see her yet? I'd love to get his opinion on her. He's quite the horseman, actually," Loki said brightly, and Odin was pleased to see his son so happy after the odd, gloomy encounter in the dead of night in that hot, dim stall over the back of a newborn foal.

"Indeed. Might I meet you to see the mare after Court this evening?" Odin asked, but Loki knew it was a demand phrased as a question.

"I fear I can't make it then, Father. I had made plans with Skada," he said regretfully. "If it were any other time, I'm sure I could." Loki's every movement, every inflection portrayed complete sincerity. Odin took pity on him. It was so rare to see Loki as happy as Skada seemed to make him, and both he and Frigga decided it would be good for Loki to have a stable relationship.

"Alright then. You name the time and we can work on this mare together. Just you, me, and Thor, breaking in wild Fabled. Won't that be great, son?" Odin said, almost dreamily. Loki nodded passively, then cleared his throat.

"Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Oh, yes. You get dressed, and have fun with your 'little minx' tonight," Odin winked and chuckled at Loki's blush, humming happily as he left the room.

When Loki closed the doors this time, he was careful to look about for anybody else lurking, waiting to ambush him. When he neither saw nor heard anybody, Loki relaxed slightly. He crossed the room to the wall of windows out onto his balcony and drew the drapes, plunging the room into darkness. Collecting new clothes, Loki changed quickly, running a hand through his hair angrily. How was he going to fix _this_ now? It wasn't like he could break himself.

Pacing about the room, Loki's mind was racing a mile a minute. He'd never be able to catch a real Fabled, not even with all his talents—they were too smart for that. A horse charmed to look like his mare form would never act the way a Fabled would, and Odin, possessing his own magic of a different type than Loki's, and therefore destructive to Loki's charms, would inadvertently dissolve such a simple illusion when he touched the horse. He could make copies of himself, surely enough, but the copies would be insubstantial and dissolve at Odin's touch as surely as any petty charm. Besides, his copies were static, more shadows of his last motions than full, living, breathing replicas. Loki's thoughts chased themselves in frantic circles and he lost track of time until someone pounded on the door.

Hastily opening the drapes, Loki was rather surprised to see the sun setting, dyeing the sky pink. Opening the door, Loki was pushed aside as Thor stormed in, brows knitted.

"Brother, Father has just informed me he intends to see you," Thor said urgently. Loki was confused a moment.

"He spoke to me just before attending Court," Loki said, and Thor pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"No, you fool, the mare. Sleipnir's mother. He has gone to see _that_ you."

Loki blanched. He rushed out onto the balcony in time to see the figure of Odin, tiny at this height, making his way towards the sprawling Royal Stables. The God of Mischief uttered a curse. "If anybody comes looking for me, I've made plans with Skada for the evening," Loki said hurriedly. "Find her and tell her to be scarce."

"Skada? Really, brother?" Thor asked with a rather playful grimace.

"She was all I could come up with on short notice! Besides, she's not bad—but hell, I'm _not_ getting into this now!" Loki said frantically, swinging his long legs over the balcony railing, scaling down the slick, gold walls of the palace. Thor watched him to the ground and then went in search of the Goddess of Mayhem.

XXX

Loki sprinted towards the stable, trying to gauge which little window would lead him into the stall in which he'd been placed that morning. He made a guess and launched himself upwards, catching his hands on the edge of the two-foot-square hole in the wall, hauling himself through with some difficulty. Loki slithered through the window and dropped into the straw to find his hair being sniffed by the stall's occupant, mildly surprised at the god literally dropping in.

Patting the horse's nose absently, Loki picked himself up and let himself out of the stall, searching for stall 128, the stall he'd been across from previously. He found 128 after a moment, then looked across the aisle, and there it stood: stall 63, completely empty. Odin's footsteps began to echo in the barn and Loki flipped over the door ungracefully, landing flat on his face.

He barely had time to strip and throw straw over his clothes before transforming. The gold haze of his magic was just dissipating when Odin looked into the stall, eyeing the mare. She was splayed in the straw, seemingly asleep, her side rising and falling with deep breaths. Presently, she became aware of Odin and raised her head, giving a little noise almost like, "oh, hello, I didn't see you there."

Odin chuckled, figuring the mare must've been very sleepy to greet him so pleasantly. Loki stood and shook the straw off herself, engaging in a staring match with Odin.

"Look at you," the All-Father murmured, as awestruck as he had been by Sleipnir. "You must've been the queen of your herd."

Loki pricked her ears and whinnied softly at that, stretching her nose towards Odin.

"And you understand what I say. Well, let's have a look at you." Odin moved to let himself into the stall, but Loki wheeled around and pinned her ears, presenting Odin with her hocks, tail lashing. The last thing she wanted was for Odin to place his hands upon her and feel the powerful current of magic surging under her skin like lightning. It would take a fool not to recognize what that meant, and Odin was certainly no fool.

Despite Loki's hostile body language, Odin entered the stall and moved towards Loki carefully, hands raised in supplication. The mare eyed him warily, ready to bite and strike if necessary. However, Odin seated himself on a straw bale in the corner, content to observe the mare. Sensing that Odin had no intentions of touching her, Loki relaxed and stuck her nose into the water barrel, slurping greedily, parched from her frenzied run there.

With a practiced eye, Odin measured the mare's conformation. She was built for speed and agility with her long, slender frame. If she was willing, Odin would bet she'd be a phenomenal racehorse. Apart from that, she was very lean, almost hungry-looking. Her joints were large and flat, as they should be, but Odin could easily see the curve of her ribs and point of her hips. Nothing some good-quality feed wouldn't fix, Odin decided.

Her coat was sleek and shining, so she wasn't malnourished, and she was startlingly clean for a horse: the mare's snow-white coat glimmered in the torchlight, and her onyx mane and tail shone like freshly-spilled ink. Surprisingly, her mane was trimmed short and even and her tail was similarly cared-for. If Odin didn't know any better, he'd say this mare was tame and had a groom.

Finished drinking, the mare raised her head, muzzle dripping, and pawed sharply at the barrel, looking for more. Her actions brought Odin's attention to her hooves: clean, hard, and well-trimmed. The mare's regal head, though, was her most fascinating part. Pure royalty: fine-boned with a tapering head and neat muzzle, her cheekbones were high and projecting, ears clever and mobile. Her eyes—oh Valhalla, her eyes—were the brightest, most entrancing emerald he'd ever seen. They were intelligent and glittering with charm: humor, perhaps, or even malice?

No forelock obscured her graceful face, as it had been shaved to a point almost a quarter of the way down her crest, accenting the arch in her elegant neck. There was no doubt in Odin's mind that this was the most perfect creature he'd ever borne witness to. The power and majesty that rolled off her sinewy body made Odin desire to own such a divine animal. But there was something, something wriggling just under the surface, that made the All-Father cautious of the great mare.

Of course, he knew any wild animal of this impressive size was dangerous, but it was her intelligence that put Odin on his guard. She reminded him of something—of _someone_—but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Only when the mare drew back her lips and pinned her ears, marring her exquisite features, did Odin realize that he'd stood and walked towards her.

"I'm only leaving, mare," Odin said softy, and the mare relaxed immediately, backing away from the door to let Odin exit. Shaken by her impeccable understanding of his whispered words, Odin leaned over the door and squinted at the mare, trying to figure out who she reminded him of. She lifted her nose easily to the little ventilation window, eight feet up the wall, and snorted into the cool night air, blowing a soft whinny into the breeze.

"Loki," Odin breathed as the realization struck him. The mare turned sharply, her green eyes fixing on him with cold, almost alien intelligence.

Loki was so startled, she almost dropped her horse form. She turned around to stare fully at her father, searching him for a flicker of recognition that would mean her cover had been blown. She saw no such flicker immediately and relaxed, dropping her head to walk over to Odin friendly. Odin, however, stepped back as if she was going to bite him.

"Guards!" Odin shouted, and Loki drew back slightly, startled by her father's sudden outburst. A few moments later, two armored guards rushed into the stable, answering Odin's call, but they, too, were instantly transfixed at the sight of Loki, the mare.

"Guards, I want you to find Prince Loki and bring him to me. I don't care where he is or what he's doing or if you have to physically drag him to me, just bring him immediately." Odin's voice was low and dangerous, but he never broke eye contact with Loki. "After you locate the prince, bring me Heimdall."

Loki trembled. She was in trouble now. Odin would find out and she'd be reamed out for lying to Odin's face, at best. At worst, she would suffer banishment or, more likely, death for sorcery—magic greater than or equal to that of Odin's was forbidden—and also for mothering a horse. Loki could see it now: Odin's disappointed and enraged face, telling him how saddened he was that his _son_ had gotten himself pregnant. Loki retreated into the far corner, shrinking her leggy frame into the shadows, shrilling panicked neighs through the window. Odin's eye narrowed. He was sure this mare was his son. When the guards and Heimdall confirmed it, there would be hell to pay.

XXX

Thor barreled through the halls, barging past maids and footmen and startled Court gentility until he reached Skada's rooms. He knocked twice before entering the murky chambers.

"Skada," Thor called, his voice echoing tauntingly. "Skada, show yourself!"

Silence. Thor growled, stepping further into the rooms. The doors slammed shut behind him and the shaft of light from the hall was extinguished, plunging him into pure black.

"You seek me, Thor?" A rich alto voice rang through the room. "What for?"

"I have business with you, or rather, my brother does. Now reveal your presence. I do not do dealings with the dark," Thor said authoritatively.

"I am not concealed. Just open your eyes," Skada's voice whispered into his hear. Thor turned and saw two bright, copper-colored eyes gleaming in the dark. They disappeared as she blinked, and Thor heard the rustling of fabric. Suddenly, the torches about the room blazed into life. Thor's eyes watered in the sudden light, and he took in the sight of Skada, draped sophisticatedly across a throne-like chair in front of him, looking up at him curiously.

Her long, waved tresses curled about her face, and she chewed on a lock of the dark, metallic crimson hair contemplatively, flaming eyes watching Thor carefully through thick lashes. Her wine-red, velvet robes swirled about her, angular cuts looking almost tattered to Thor, matching her burning mane and gaze. He'd never properly seen the Goddess of Destruction and Mayhem before, but now he understood Loki's admiration of her.

"When you are quite finished ogling me," Skada said sharply, "you may tell me what your brother has to say."

"Loki—" Thor started.

"Oh, do say his name again. It sounds so … _delectable_ when you say it like that," Skada said huskily, mischievous smile curling across scarlet lips. Thor gave her a pointed look.

"Loki is in a spot of trouble at the moment, and as cover, he has informed the All-Father that you and he are on a date tonight, so to speak." Thor gauged Skada's reaction as her smile widened.

"That's a nice thought. Too bad the God of Lies is too cowardly to follow through with his fanciful ideas," Skada's voice became rougher, smile turning to a grimace. "Why should I aid him? The trickster has never done any service to me."

"The God of Lies Loki may be, but he is sincere in this request: act your part in this devious play, and he will be truly grateful," Thor pleaded. Skada considered him emotionlessly.

"How will he repay me?" she asked, rising from her seat. Skada was petite for a goddess at five feet, six inches, and Thor certainly towered over her. Even so, the ferocity of her gaze and the aura of menace she carried like weapons humbled Thor.

"I'm sure when this infernal dance is over, my brother will compensate you handsomely, however you see fit," Thor said confidently.

"A favor? At my word?" Skada licked her lips, and Thor nodded. "Then the deal is struck—hold your brother to his word. And tell me, what are my other obligations? A request from Loki never comes without a caveat or a dozen."

"All he told me was that you should aid him in the creation of his alibi, as he has need of one presently." Thor watched guardedly as Skada circled him, almost hungrily.

"Why has he need of an alibi? That is _my_ caveat, or one of them. I must know why I am being dragged into this mire. Else, I do not give my services. Now you have my two conditions: a favor, to be exacted later, at my word, and the full, truthful story; so give me Loki's," Skada said precisely, her tongue almost as silver as Loki's.

Thor pinched the bridge of his nose, as he did when he was stressed. Frigga would kill him for spilling to the Goddess of Destruction, yet here he was, doing it anyways. "Loki somehow managed to … get himself … with foal, and three days ago, he gave birth to the eight-legged colt you've doubtlessly heard spoken so highly of. This morning, though, Odin caught him. The predicament is, Odin thinks Loki in his horse-form is a Fabled, but Odin must _not _know Loki can change shape. Revelation of such power would be a crime worthy of banishment, or terrible death," Thor said, letting his breath out. Skada narrowed her eyes and thought for several moments.

"I would expect nothing less bizarre from the God of Mischief," Skada snorted, obviously amused. "But, I understand his plight," Skada's voice softened, and her eyes took on a distant look. "I too, hide greater powers than I am permitted."

Thor was surprised. He was under the impression magic of great magnitude was restricted to the royal lineage—but with Loki being revealed as adopted, that should have changed Thor's views. Then again, Skada's patronage was so closely linked with Loki's that it should not have surprised him. Skada's chaos, discord, mayhem, and destruction went hand-in-hand with Loki's trickery, deceit, mischief, and lies. Why shouldn't both hold the secrets of their powerful Chaos magics close against their chests?

"Then you will help us all?" Thor asked, somewhat hesitantly.

"Is that know what I have said?" Skada responded critically, giving Thor a withering look. The God of Thunder nodded, somewhat sheepishly. He flinched slightly as Skada took his hand unexpectedly, her palm burning against his. "I swear to Thor, God of Thunder, on behalf of Loki, God of Mischief, from one Chaos deity to another, that I, Skada, Goddess of Destruction, will do whatever I must to help Loki Odinson conceal his troubles and accomplish his ambitions."

The look on Skada's sharp, foxy face was completely solemn and genuine, and Thor felt that look cement the deal. He bowed his head and placed his hand, clasped with Skada's to his heart as a tingling sensation rippled over his skin.

Just then, booted feet stormed down the hallway, and both gods' heads snapped up as they heard voices shouting, "Loki Odinson! Report, Prince Loki Odinson!"

Skada pulled her hand free of Thor's grasp, and within seconds, a dead ringer for Loki looked levelly into Thor's eyes, blinking the blazing copper color from his irises. Skada's magic; rust-colored, static crackling; danced over his skin. Skada shook his head, eyes fully emerald now, and stepped out of the room. Thor followed, and he heard Loki's mellow baritone ring out.

"You seek me?"

The guards turned in unison and swarmed Skada and Thor.

"Your father requests your presence urgently in the stables," one guard said, moving to grab Skada's upper arm. He shrugged the guard off easily, gliding down the hall with the exact air of amused malice and royalty Loki embodied effortlessly. The guards scurried after him and Thor caught up quickly, leaning over to hiss in Skada's ear, "it's probably about Loki, as the Fabled. Be prepared for questioning."

XXX

Those minutes in the stable were the most tense of Loki's entire life. She kept her nose to the wind, trying to sense when the guards returned, subtly checking to make sure her armor was still there. When she heard the thud of boots in the barn, the mare fell to her knees, distraught. Her life was about to end, and no amount of lying would fix it. Odin watched the mare critically, observing her mounting anguish objectively.

"Were you able to find him?" Odin asked, without removing his eyes from the panting, sweating mare.

"We—" the guard spoke.

"I thought not." Odin raised Gungnir, ready to disarm the spells that held Loki in the mare form when a pale, green-and-black clad hand grasped the shaft of the spear.

"You thought wrong," Loki said evenly. The astonishment was all too easy to read on Odin's face, and the mare stood quietly, whinnying shrilly at the newcomers. In the stall, the real Loki was as floored as the All-Father. Who was playing him? How did they get here? Questions raced through her mind as she watched the tense exchange.

Odin lowered Gungnir hesitantly, searching Skada's face. "Loki?"

Skada replied immediately. "Yes, Father?"

"_Loki_?"

"I am indeed right here, Father. What is it you wish to speak to me about? I must return to Skada soon. Your guards interrupted something that is best not left incomplete," Skada said imperiously, and Thor had to admit she was playing Loki incredibly well.

"Oh. I just … I want to request your opinion on this mare," Odin gestured to the real Loki, hanging her head over the door, ears pricked at Skada.

"A very intelligent-looking animal, certainly," Skada said evenly, taking measured steps towards Loki, holding his hand palm-up for the mare to sniff. "What do you have planned for her?"

Odin was momentarily lost for words as he watched the mare evaluate Loki's palm openly, and took in Loki's look of removed curiosity as he gazed down on the mare's regal head. Thor pressed his lips together and clasped his hands behind his back, shifting uncomfortably.

"I believe she would make a fine parade mount for Frigga," Odin said softly. Loki grunted, rubbing the mare's forehead and ears. Odin was astounded the Fabled was that docile.

"The prince seems just the man to break the horse," one guard said quietly. Thor shot him an angry look, and the guard quailed.

"Indeed," Odin murmured. Abruptly, the mare jerked her head upwards, baring her teeth, going in to snap at Loki's face. In a flash, the Fabled's teeth connected loudly with the hard golden shaft of a bladed staff. Loki held the staff above his head, arms straining as the mare bore down on him, striking the door with her hooves until its hinges rattled dangerously.

"_Enough!_" Thor bellowed, raising Mjolnir threateningly. Loki glanced at him for a second, and stepped sideways. The mare's jawbone connected painfully with the top of the door before she righted herself, glowering murderously at them with frozen green eyes. The loud blow startled Odin from his Fabled-induced trance, and he came to his senses.

"Line the stall with haybales," he commanded the quivering guards, "and do not allow the mare any more visitors. Guard her through the night. We shall return for her in the morn."

With that, Odin swept past the two princes and the platoon of guards, until he nearly bumped into Heimdall, standing silently at the mouth of the barn. "Oh! Heimdall. Gaze upon that child," Odin pointed to Loki, "and tell me if Loki indeed stands there."

The mare stuck her head out the stall door, interested in the proceedings, as Heimdall's infinite gold eyes turned on her and Loki, who was still standing very close. "It is as you say, my Lord. Loki indeed stands there," Heimdall said austerely. Satisfied, Odin exited the barn, the guards retreating from the malicious mare to the hay barn, to fetch the bales. Heimdall's eyes flickered over the mare, Loki, and Thor, and each had a peculiar sensation of being X-rayed.

"I shall have you know, I will not answer a direct question from my sworn liege falsely. That being said, I am neither for nor against you. Position yourselves carefully," Heimdall said cryptically, departing. Thor cast about for any returning guards before moving close to Loki, the mare.

"Brother, what is with you?" Thor hissed angrily. Loki flattened her ears, and Skada took a step back, but not quickly enough, as blood blossomed on his palm. Enraged, Skada moved to strike the mare with the blade of his staff, but Thor blocked the blow with Mjolnir. Tossing her head impatiently, Loki transfigured himself and met Skada's furious glare.

"May I speak to you _privately_ a moment, Thor?" Loki's look stayed fixated on Skada until she retreated to the other end of the barn. Still not contented, Loki cast a quick silencing charm before speaking freely. "I instructed you to tell Skada to make herself _scarce_, not drag her into the middle of this mess!"

"She swore to me, gravely and truthfully—" Thor was interrupted by Loki's livid whisper.

"Oaths, gravity, and truth are meaningless to Chaos deities, especially one as irreverent as Skada. She played you, and now you've embroiled her deeper in this than even _I_ can fix."

"If you would let me _finish_, brother!" Thor growled. "I am _aware_ of the nature of Chaos deities—I've lived with you for over two thousand years! The Prince of Chaos is my brother for Valhalla's sake, so give me some credit, Loki," Thor said candidly. "That being said, I know when someone of your nature is being fully genuine. Skada displayed that unadulterated legitimacy to me when she swore. I _know_ we will be able to trust her. She is a valid ally in this strange fight."

Loki breathed heavily through his nose, calming himself before responding, casting a glance at Skada. "While I enjoy your flattery, I cannot help but remain wary of such a goddess. Even among our ranks, she is unpredictable. Skada seeks to do only what indulges her patronage: mayhem, discord, and destruction. She is already gorging herself on the discord she's causing between us at this very moment. Do not indulge her any further, Thor, and listen to me! You ought not have involved her. If it suits her, she will rat us out to Odin for a good bout of destruction—namely, of my life."

"If she does so, brother, she risks revealing her own magical magnitude, which would destroy her as well. Skada is bound by fact to keep our plight secret; and she swore this to me." Thor held up his palm, and Loki gaped at the copper-colored symbol etched into his brother's skin by Skada's magic. "It is meant for you, as she addressed the oath to Prince Loki Odinson, God of Mischief."

Thor pressed his palm together with Loki's, feeling a burning sensation as the true oath embedded itself in Loki's skin now.

Gazing in disbelief at Skada's oath, expecting it to fade like a joke charm, even though it was indelibly marked in his skin, and he could feel where the sparky, coppery magic was joined to his own golden miasma.

Loki sighed heavily before waving his marked hand, releasing the silence, and beckoning Skada over.

"It seems you have firmly entrenched yourself in this issue, Goddess," Loki said formally, and Skada nodded, fighting a smirk. "In that case, when the time comes tomorrow, you will aid me by playing the part of Fabled mare when Odin, Thor, and I arrive to break you. I'm sure you'll derive much enjoyment from the job."

"Certainly as much as I'm enjoying this view," Skada said wickedly, arching his brow at Loki's nude form.

"While I do enjoy looking in the mirror, dear Skada, I do not enjoy being visually fucked by myself. Take that guise off," Loki commanded casually as Skada returned to her true, foxy form.

"In the stall you go," Thor said heartily, pitching the Goddess unceremoniously over the door as Loki, now fully dressed, hurdled over the door. The brothers slammed the doors and bolted them as Skada's incensed shriek rang through the barn, and the sounds of her fists pounding on the door started. Loki smirked at Thor before pressing his lips to a crack around the door, taunting,

"Remember, we want a nice, pretty girl tomorrow. Don't abuse yourself too much tonight, my little minx," Loki's deep voice was full of mirth, and Thor bellowed a laugh at his brother's clever double-entendre.

The furious growls and slams from behind the door increased as Thor and Loki strolled from the barn, Loki casually blocking the ventilation window with a barrier charm as they passed. They saw a horse's livid copper eye appear briefly, promising blood, before an inhuman scream resonated through the calm night air.

Not bothered in the slightest at Skada's plight, the brothers returned to the palace in high spirits, eager to break in the sure-to-be-enraged "Fabled" mare tomorrow.

**XXX**

**XXX**

**XXX**

**Don't worry, there'll be no romance between them in **_**this**_** story, but I'll be putting up a separate and largely unrelated story soon including Skada as Loki's love interest, if that's what floats y'all's boats.**

**Reviews are massively appreciated, so please! *sad puppy eyes***


	3. Goodbye, Sleipnir

**Thanks to silmarlfan1 and jaquelinelittle for reviewing, I really do love it when you guys drop me a line. :)**

**When I say, "bladed staff," imagine the long form of Loki's staff in **_**The Avengers**_**. Its name is Vaara, which is Finnish for "danger." I try to take these name from traditionally Viking-like or Scandinavian languages, because Google Translate doesn't have Old Norse … :(**

**XXX**

**XXX**

**XXX**

The morning of Skada's breaking dawned crisp and frosted, Loki's and Thor's boots crunching on the icy grass as they made their way to the stables. Footsteps already melted into the frosty coating indicated Odin had already arrived.

"Alright boys," Odin said, almost gleefully when his sons stepped into the barn. The princes were momentarily shocked. They'd never seen Odin look anything other than completely regal, and here he was in a casual tunic and leather leggings, absent of Gungnir and any armor. "Well, don't just stand there gaping, help me get this animal out here."

Thor was the first to move, collecting a halter, unbolting the door cautiously. Loki tapped his brother on the shoulder. "Let me help," Loki whispered his plan in Thor's ear. Thor nodded, and flung the door open. Loki tensed, waiting for Skada to lunge at him, teeth bare, but instead, the mare stood in the far corner, leg cocked, lip hanging in a most undignified manner, her inaction voiding Loki's plan.

"Mare!" Thor said sharply, and Skada's head jerked up, lime-green eyes opening to the sight of Thor brandishing a halter. Surprisingly, she walked over to the door docilely and allowed Thor to halter her, without so much as flicking her ears. It made them uneasy, to say the least.

"I don't like it. She's planning something," Loki hissed to Thor, who nodded, attaching a long lead-rope in case the mare tried to bolt with him. The three led the tall, easy mare to an immense, round pen with walls ten feet tall made of vast timbers: the horse-breaking pen.

"Father, perhaps it is better if you instruct us from the sidelines. You are too valuable to have your brains dashed by an unruly mare," Thor said politely, and Odin withdrew to the outside, leaning on the timbers, ready to call instructions as he bolted the gate to the pen shut.

The mare showed no signs of anything other than complete relaxation, following the movements of the two brothers with lazily rotating ears. Knots of worry tied themselves in Thor's belly. Loki was tense, ready to summon his bladed staff, Vaara, if the mare became dangerous.

"See if you can lunge her first," Odin called, and Thor moved into position in the middle of the pen, raising his arms and pointing in the direction he wanted Skada to run. Obediently, Skada trotted off. Odin frowned. "Make her canter."

Thor shouted for Skada to canter, and she moved effortlessly from her smooth, swinging trot to a flowing, ground-eating canter stride. Odin was impressed with her excellent movement, but concerned at her overly quiet demeanor. A wild Fabled should never have been this calm, unless she had been previously broken … and there was that _uncanny_ resemblance to Loki.

Odin's barked instructions became more and more terse as they put Skada through a battery of vigorous tests and exercises normally designed for training warhorses. She passed them all with flying colors. Finally, Odin said, "Loki, mount her."

Loki examined the mare's expression for any sign of spite, but she just stood, looking about vaguely, unconcerned with the happenings of the short people running about her legs. The thought crossed Loki's mind that Skada had switched another horse in, or perhaps she had been drugged. All those thoughts were dispelled, however, when Thor boosted Loki up onto her bony back.

Skada turned her head to look into Loki's eyes, and for a heart-pounding moment, those frozen emeralds turned to blazing, dangerous rubies. Skada was definitely still here. Loki swallowed the worst of his nerves, seeking a handhold or way to grip the mare's slick form. His best route was to grip with his legs, knees digging into Skada's ribs, hands twined in her short, black mane.

Thor nodded tensely, and Loki returned the gesture, before Thor sent the mare trotting in a circle. Despite the mare's protruding backbone and lanky build, her trot was amazingly comfortable, and Loki had no problems relaxing.

When he started relaxing, though, that's when the problems started.

Sensing Loki no longer had his guard up, Skada propped, skidding to a stop and throwing Loki up onto her neck. The god scrambled to get back into position, but Skada whipped her head around as Loki clung desperately to her neck. Somehow, he managed to get back onto her withers, and kicked her severely, trying to get her to move forward.

Spitefully, Skada leaped backwards and reared up. Thor jerked ruthlessly on the lead rope, twisting the mare's head down, blood dripping from her nostrils at the blow. Enraged now, Skada leaped forward, hooves flying at Thor's head, Loki clinging for dear life on her back. Thor managed to duck—barely—but the hard horn of her feet clipped Thor's shoulder, and there was a crack that even Odin could hear.

Thor groaned and staggered to his feet, summoning Mjolnir. Loki dove from the mare's back as she started bucking and leaping, kicking at the timbers like a bronco. Earsplitting snaps rang out as the mighty wood cracked and chips flew. Loki rolled in the dust, curling into a ball as Skada turned on him, stomping viciously.

Protecting his brother, Thor flew at the mare, colliding with her barrel with a loud thump that knocked her clear into the wall of the pen. Odin watched as the mare recovered and turned to the gods, Loki picking himself up and dusting himself off, summoning Vaara. Now _this_ was what he'd been expecting.

Uttering harsh brays, the mare charged forward, hooves flying, teeth bared, whirling and striking and dodging blows from Mjolnir and Vaara. Dust swirled about them like a storm as the three danced their dangerous ballet, and Odin shouted encouragement for Thor and Loki. Suddenly, there was a shrill, inhuman scream, and the mare came flying from the cloud, a stark splash of red trailing down her side.

Muscles bunching, head in the air, Skada made an almighty leap at the fence, every fiber of her body straining to fly over the top timber of her confinement. Her belly grazed, black tar rubbing onto white fur, and back hooves rapped against the wood sharply, but she was clear.

The gods watched in disbelief as Skada landed on the other side, cried in victory, and took off at a blazing gallop, disappearing into the woods. The horses in the pasture, riled up by the mare's performance, raced about, and Loki could pick out Sleipnir easily, leading the herd with his speed.

Panting, covered in sweat, dust, and blood, Loki and Thor emerged from the damaged pen to a blinding smile from Odin. "How's that to get your blood up, eh? Not every day you get to battle a Fabled, and win!"

Loki clapped Thor on the back tiredly, apologizing as his brother winced. "Do you think it's broken?"

"Nay, I'm made of sterner stuff than that," Thor said, rotating his shoulder in the socket until it popped, and he sighed. "Just dislocated."

"I'm very proud of you both, my sons," Odin said heartily, grasping their elbows and leading them back to the palace. "This calls for a celebration!"

"Really, Father? This early in the day?" Loki asked wryly, using Odin's words against him. Odin chuckled.

"Yes, this early in the day, Loki. Perhaps you could bring your little Skada. It won't be big, I promise." Odin shook Loki playfully, unaware that the God of Mischief's heart plummeted. There was no way he couldn't show up _without_ Skada, but there was also no way he could tempt the goddess to the celebration, not after what they'd done to her. Locked her in a stall in a horse form overnight, then attempted to break her? There was no way to forgive that in any small matter of seconds.

In the palace, Odin bade them to return to the Great Hall at noon for the celebration. Thor retreated to his rooms, and Loki gave him instructions to tell anyone who inquired truthfully where Loki was: finding Skada.

XXX

Armored with Vaara in hand, Loki took a horse from the stables (a quiet, trained, mortal horse, mind you) and trotted into the woods, following the deep hoof-marks gouged into the soft loam. He pulled his steed up when he saw blood, still wet, glistening on a leaf. Loki must've wounded Skada more seriously than he'd initially thought.

Fifteen minutes of careful tracking led Loki to a stream, where the water was still sullied and churned from a horse crossing it. From the other side of the stream, Loki heard a low moan, and saw four long, black legs sticking out of a patch of ferns.

Dismounting hastily, Loki jumped over the stream and cautiously approached the wounded mare, hands up to show no harm, Vaara left on the ground out of his reach. The wound on Skada's flank from the honed blade was deep, baring the white of her ribs, and Loki recoiled slightly at the sight before going to Skada's head, patting her cheek gently.

Copper eyes opened to look at him, but without energy for hatred. She snorted at him and closed her eyes, surrendering to whatever it was he wished to do to her. Watchfully, Loki moved to her flank, running his hands down the gash. The wound sealed itself, flesh knitting together with a faint burning sensation, and all that was left was a streak of muddy crimson on satin white as Loki's hands passed down the cut.

Skada whickered softly, in thanks, before sitting up and transforming, arranging her legs and long hair to preserve her modesty. Her face looked worn, the exertion drawing the bright mischief from her sly expression, but now that her wound was healed, she had more energy to muster some form of loathing to glare at Loki with.

"I swore in a magically binding oath that I would do whatever I must to help Loki Odinson conceal his troubles and accomplish his ambitions," Skada said hoarsely, quoting her oath, "but now I think I am a fool for doing so. I ought to have known the God of Lies would use me as a pawn."

Loki sighed heavily, wishing to abate Skada's anger. "I apologize for my treatment of you, Skada Aurinosdottir. I have been mightily unfair to you, and yes, I have told you untruths and mislead you."

"So now you think a simple apology will erase the wrongs you have committed against me? Your famed intelligence fails you, Loki," Skada spat scathingly.

"No, I am not so foolish to believe that. However, if you will not come willingly, I will invoke the oath," Loki said flatly, raising his marked hand. Skada grudgingly kept quiet. "In honor of the _victory_ over the Fabled mare, Father is holding a celebration. He has invited me to bring you."

"To parade me about as your latest conquest? I decline," Skada growled. Loki sighed yet again.

"Then you leave me no choice, my lady. Under the bond of this oath, and in the words spoken by Skada Aurinosdottir, you must accompany me to the celebration to conceal my troubles and after the All-Father's suspicion." Loki's clear voice resonated in the woods, and Skada looked as if she wanted to rip his head off with her bare hands.

"My presence is not absolutely necessary to maintain a normal façade," she said after a long moment. Loki's cool mask broke, and rage melted the frost in his eyes.

"_Oh my God!_" He bellowed, slamming his fists into a tree. "Just _please_, let me preserve some sense of dignity!"

"Dignity! _Dignity!_ You have the _audacity_ to plead for dignity!" Skada screeched, standing up to face Loki, flipping her hair over her shoulders. The blatant disregard for modesty drove the point home: "who is that was conned into a deadly game, humiliated in a forced shape-change, like _rape_, and now stands naked in the woods in shame? Certainly not the illustrious Prince Loki!"

"Yet who was it that gave birth to a horse?" Loki spat.

"Of your own volition! It takes two to make a child! If you were not so much of a _slut_—" Skada shouted, yelping as Loki cracked her across the face.

"You are not entitled to speak of your prince in such a manner," Loki said coldly, viciously, staring down unfeelingly as the stunned Skada, in a heap at his feet. Vaara leaped into his hand. "And right now, this prince is commanding you to attend with him. You shall not refuse."

Faced with the blade of Vaara, Skada shot Loki the most poisonous glare she could; and if looks could kill … Asgard would have just lost one of its princes. Resentfully, searching for any loopholes in the demand, Skada summoned her clothes and dressed, raking her hands through her hair. She did not bother to slip her feet into her high-heeled boots before hopping over the stream and mounting Loki's horse, dangling her impractical shoes as a reason.. Loki glowered, but said nothing. Despite royal status, he had a healthy respect for the Goddess of Destruction, the so-called Queen of Chaos.

Walking alongside the bay horse, who bowed his head so respectfully to his fiery, elegant rider, Loki mused over Skada's actions. She perched sidesaddle with her skirts like a burgundy waterfall, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, Loki felt unbelievably stupid for not simply summoning his clothes after waking up in the stables. Such a simple charm would have saved him all this grief and prevented Skada's inclusion—and injury—in this contrived affair. No matter how stoic Loki appeared, he had a soft spot for Skada, and felt a little guilty at her harms. Not _too_ guilty, he reminded himself, else he'd have to actually court her to make amends.

Skada was too blinded by fury to think about anything other than all te ways she'd love to kill Loki at that moment. A wicked grin crept over her face as she imagined a particularly cruel method involving a clockwork pear. When she arrived at the Stables, she saw an attendant watching, and was forced to take Loki's hand as he helped her off the horse. The attendant took the animal away and Loki formally escorted Skada to her chambers in chilly silence, pressing an obligatory kiss to her fury-white knuckles when he promised in a flat, disconnected voice to return at noon.

Alone in her rooms, Skada screamed. She screamed her anger, her bloodlust, her disappointment, and her frustration—frustration that, despite Loki's abuse of her, she still felt damned butterflies in her stomach at the sight of him. Angrily, she pulled her armor on. Angrily, she brushed her hair. Angrily, she called for her lady's maids. Angrily, she let them pretty her up. Angrily, she met Loki at noon. Furiously, she attended the celebration.

XXX

When Odin had promised the celebration would be "small," he had been speaking relatively. Loki's idea of "small" differed so dramatically from his father's that he was tempted to call a fib on Odin. Tempted, but not compelled. He valued his head, thank you very much.

Most of the Court gentility, people whose livelihood was to attend these parties and get wrapped up in political intrigue and fund Odin's projects, turned out in their finery, not quite knowing the reason for the feast, but eager to attend nonetheless. They fawned over Prince Loki and Lady Skada appropriately when they entered and took their places respective to Odin and Frigga, and Thor and Sif. Loki made polite conversation with his family and Sif while Skada picked at her food morosely. The Queen Goddess did not let Skada's mood escape notice. When the party really got into swing, Frigga confronted Loki.

"Loki. You implicated Skada in this, did you not?" Frigga's tone allowed Loki no room to weasel out with lies.

"Yes. It was not my decision, though, I shall have you know," Loki said quickly, trying to cover himself. "I sent Thor as an emissary and Skada tricked him and then embedded herself with a magically binding oath."

Loki pulled off his glove and held his palm for Frigga to see. Odin breezed by and Frigga snatched her son's hand to hide the shimmering copper mark. She gave him a long, hard look. "You and your brother are both great, and unfortunately powerful," Frigga said lowly, "for you are both great fools."

His mother's vicious hiss made Loki flinch. "Mother—"

"Don't '_mother_' me, Loki. Allowing, or even mentioning, someone like that goddess in a plot of this nature is the single most idiotic thing I have ever seen you do. And I thought you were intelligent," Frigga snorted derisively. "You are prideful and arrogant and overestimate your own abilities while underestimating those around you. In this single gesture, you have made this issue many times more vast than when you started.

"Lies may serve you well elsewhere, but here they do you a phenomenal disservice. It is up to you now to sort out this mess you've created. I am finished with this. I wash my hands of your problems," Frigga said vehemently, shaking her hands at Loki before disappearing into the crowd. Loki felt lower than he'd ever felt before, for every word his mother had spoken was true.

XXX

Loki was growing intolerant of the increasingly inebriated guests as the afternoon shadows lengthened. Gazing over the heads of the crowd, he saw a fiery red head leaving the hall. Before he knew what he was doing, Loki found himself edging through the crowd towards the door, eyes fixed on the bright color of her hair.

By the time he reached the door, however, Skada was nowhere to be found. Out of the moist and pungent air in the hall, Loki's head cleared and he realized that it would be foolish to pursue Skada. She was obviously hurt and retreating to lick her wounds—another confrontation, and she would most likely castrate him.

Faced with no overwhelming desire to plunge back into the alcohol-heavy party inside, Loki strolled outside, removing his helmet, tucking the horned helm under his arm as he made his way leisurely towards the paddock. The horses watched him curiously as he called for Sleipnir.

The little colt bounded over eagerly, and his innocent demeanor brought a sad smile to the god's lips. How had such a corrupted man brought such a joyful, innocent life into being? In one way, Loki supposed, Sleipnir was his salvation, a reminder of what he could be: light, carefree, charmingly mischievous. In the other way, Sleipnir was as much his curse as any malicious spell: constantly held out of his reach, yet so close he could run his fingers through that velveteen fur and feel his son's warm, fluttering breaths upon his palm. It maddened Loki to where he wanted to scream and confess to Odin, and beg his father to just _please_, let him be with Sleipnir.

Vicious thoughts struck down that last idea, and Loki knelt to see eye-to-eye with the colt. The baby's dark, liquid ebony eyes reflected Loki's grim expression back at him, and he cracked a grin, if only for the foal's sake. "I suppose I'll just have to watch you grow from afar," Loki whispered. "But worry not, my son, my child, my babe, I will never be more than a call away."

And that was how Loki found tears tracking down his cheeks, cold and salty, nose running. He sniffed and rubbed his fingers over the foal's forehead before standing and marching back to the palace. That night, Loki resolved to remove himself as the foal's mother, to prevent further heartbreak.

XXX

XXX

XXX

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	4. Farewell, Skada

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**XXX**

The years flew by Loki in what seemed like a matter of minutes. He watched his Sleipnir grow up from a gangly colt to a rangy yearling to a slender young stallion. Despite his divine heritage, Sleipnir grew rapidly at the beginning of his life, as all young animals do. His coat, which had been an ash grey when he was born, darkened to a charcoal, and his ebony eyes took on a hunter-green tint.

After a decade or so, the stable master decided that it was time to break Sleipnir. The day the news came to Court, Loki was in attendance. A page brought the message and Odin's eye glimmered with interest, and Loki barely managed to contain himself. Anxiety flashed through his mind like lightning, blinding him. He could hardly hear as Odin gave instructions to start the breaking process the next day.

The day of Sleipnir's breaking dawned much like Skada's had: cool and frosted. Loki approached Sleipnir's paddock and called for him, as he had nearly every day. Sleipnir pricked his ears and came over to the fence, pawing at the ground with two feet as he searched for the treat in Loki's upturned palm, but found none.

"Today we're going to break you," Loki said evenly. He was _not_ Sleipnir's mother, merely a party interested in his future. "You'd better behave. I do not want it to go as your mother's did."

Sleipnir's eyes fixed on Loki's with cool intelligence and he arched his neck, reaching his muzzle towards Loki's face, snuffling over his cheeks and forehead, mussing his hair. Loki allowed himself to smile as he gently pushed the stallion's face away and fixed his hair.

"Prince Loki! Since you're already there, could you halter him?" a page shouted over to Loki, tossing a fine leather halter to the god. Loki caught it, rubbing his fingers over the brass plate reading "Sleipnir".

He was able to easily buckle the headstall on Sleipnir and lead him to the breaking pen, worry weighing heavily in his stomach like a stone. The horse, on the other hand, was unbothered: prancing elegantly, eight legs moving in perfect synchronicity. He took in the breaking pen with acuity, sniffing at the timbers, long since repaired from Skada's damage.

"It would be best, my lord, if you were not inside the pen when we break him," the page said politely, echoing only what the stable master had told him.

"I was one who broke the Fabled mare," Loki responded. The page bowed and backed away, and within minutes, the stable master himself appeared.

"I am aware that you broke the Fabled mare," the stable master said snappishly. He was a down-to-earth man who knew his way around horses, and didn't want some hoity-toity prince interfering with this delicate process. "However, I'll have you know I do _not_ want this animal broken like that. This is a fine stallion, deserving of better treatment than that poor mare you damaged. I will not allow you ruin this one, too."

Loki was taken aback, yet he saw the wisdom in the man's words, and bowed out with respect. Leaning against the timbers on the outside of the pen, the prince watched as the stable master and his page approached Sleipnir respectfully. The stallion was familiar with them both and greeted them friendly. The stable master, Horst, offered Sleipnir a handful of grain before attaching a long lead rope to the halter.

It was almost like watching magic as Horst sent Sleipnir trotting around the big pen, using his arms and voice alone. No force, no threats, no indication of anything other than complete understanding and respect. The page revolved with Horst as Sleipnir trotted around, his eight legs carrying him quickly and easily, like watching water flow.

Odin arrived at the point when Horst untied the lead rope, working at liberty with Sleipnir to move him through his beautiful gaits, having him reverse direction on a dime, backing and sidestepping as if the horse had been trained for years. The All-Father whistled long and low, in appreciation. It was the same call Loki used to summon the animal, but it did not interrupt his connection to Horst. He was in sync with the stable master.

When Horst had Sleipnir galloping, a breathtaking sight, he suddenly turned his back. Almost as if he had jerked a lead rope to his head, Sleipnir pulled up and turned towards Horst, walking to him, blowing his breath through distended nostrils, but ears still pricked. Loki was wondering if there really _was_ some magic or extrasensory connection as Horst turned again and rubbed Sleipnir's face.

The page opened the gate to the pen and Horst walked out, Sleipnir following obediently at his side, like a well-trained dog. Horst walked all the way around the stables, jogging at some points to have Sleipnir trot slowly, and stopping abruptly at others, to have the animal halt at his side perfectly. To say Loki and Odin were impressed was an understatement. There was no rope connecting man and animal, yet they stayed no more than a foot away from each other, as if there was.

Finally, Horst returned to Sleipnir's paddock, but before entering, he turned to Sleipnir and backed halfway into the field, until five hundred yards separated the two. Sleipnir had not moved a muscle, though Loki could tell he was straining to go to Horst. After ten minutes, Sleipnir still had not moved, not put his head down to graze, not turned away. Horst summoned Sleipnir with a simple call and the animal went bolting, sliding to a stop right in front of the stable master. Loki felt tears of pride well in his eyes, but he blinked them back. He was _not_ Sleipnir's mother.

Horst slipped Sleipnir's halter off and had to shout and wave his arms to startle Sleipnir away and signify an end to the session. Despite that, Sleipnir trailed Horst to the fence and neighed forlornly when the stable master closed the gate to the field behind him.

"That, my lords, is how you _properly_ break a horse. Granted, he won't be finished in one day, not even close, but you start in one day, and don't overexert them. They only learn so much, and this one is incredibly smart, but I am not going to take the chance and sour him to learning. You two break horses like there's no tomorrow. The method I use, a lot of people call 'gentling'. We gentle them, we don't break their spirits. Work with, not against," Horst said sagely, buckling Sleipnir's halter over his shoulder as he marched back towards the barn.

Odin have an appreciative "hm" and returned to the palace, leaving Loki alone with the stallion. He grasped Sleipnir's nose and held his head still, running his hands over the fine-boned face, around the intelligent eyes. It was unusual, he thought, that the colt he'd watched grow up was darkening with age, instead of lightening.

"My boy," Loki crooned, cupping the stallion's ears. "You're doing so well. I want you to know that I'm proud of you."

Sleipnir snorted and bobbed his head, as if he understood Loki's murmured praises. The God of Mischief turned and walked away, ignoring Sleipnir's calls. He was halfway across the lawn of the palace when he felt a rumble go through the ground, and was knocked onto his face by a shove to the back. Rolling over, Loki was greeted with the great silhouette of Sleipnir, standing over him, gazing down curiously.

"Wha—how did you—why?" Loki stuttered as Sleipnir grasped the strap of his armor and hauled him upright, setting him surprisingly easily on his feet. Sleipnir tossed his head, looking over his shoulder at the fence, which came up to Loki's shoulder. Then he gave a clear snort and glared—the horse _glared_—at Loki, as if to say, "_you didn't come when I called, like you promised._"

Loki was shocked, as he understood the horse's actions all too clearly. "You remember that? That was twelve years ago." Sleipnir whickered. Loki flung his arms around the horse's long face and allowed himself a display of emotion that nobody but this horse would ever have the honor to see.

Sleipnir tolerated Loki hanging on his face for several minutes, then he pulled his head free and trotted back to the pasture, jumping over the fence with ease, his sinewy dark body sailing through the air, four feet snapping out to meet the ground with a muffled thud. He brought his four back feet under him and landed, cantering a step before pulling up and turning to face Loki, giving one last trumpeting call before galloping away, disappearing over the crest of the hill.

"What a magnificent creature," Loki breathed before grinning to himself.

XXX

Sleipnir's breaking continued every day, and every day, Loki watched avidly, observing carefully as Horst worked respectfully with the great, eight-legged horse. At first, there was progress in leaps and bounds, but then that stagnated and Horst would do the same things, day after day, for two weeks sometimes. Loki could never pick out any flaws in Sleipnir's performances, but apparently Horst could. Each little shake of his head, every high-legged step, thrash of the tail, chomp of the teeth, indicated to Horst something different, indecipherable to Loki.

As boring as it was, and sometimes as infuriating as it was, Loki never quit attending the gentling sessions. He wanted to make sure Sleipnir was doing well, treated well, and progressing well. The last one was nigh impossible to ensure, but Loki would not quit on this horse, not when it had become his life. Every day he was consumed with thoughts of Sleipnir, attending Court only when asked, and preoccupied when he did.

Horst never became upset with Sleipnir; never raised his voice above a calm, even tone; never struck or lashed out at Sleipnir. Loki was impressed, and after the sessions, he found himself trying to imitate Horst's techniques to get Sleipnir to obey him. After a few attempts, though, Horst caught him and cautioned him against overexerting the horse's mind.

A year passed and Sleipnir was still not fully gentled, but Loki never lost patience with the speed of the training. Others, however, lost patience with Loki's obsession about the training. Thor, in particular, was upset with his brother's reticence. One day, he finally confronted the god.

"Loki," Thor said as he walked up behind him. As usual, Loki was leaning against the timbers, watching Horst perform new exercises with Sleipnir. "Loki, brother, may I speak with you?"

"Of course, Thor," Loki said absently, not turning away from the pen. Thor's expression darkened. "Are you going to speak, or merely stand there?" Loki turned to see the reason for Thor's silence, and the God of Thunder was surprised at Loki's visage.

His brother had always been of a lean constitution, but now he looked positively thin. His high cheekbones had always shadowed his cheeks, but now the skin was pulled taut and hollows sat about his dulled eyes, build of his skull visible in the sharp lines of his brow and jaw. His hands were likewise drawn and eerie, tendons sharp and striking against the bones and sinew. Loki's movements, normally graceful and sweeping, were limited and stiff, as though he hadn't moved much in a very long time.

"Brother, what has become of thee?" Thor murmured.

"Thee? You're getting awfully formal, now, Thor," Loki cautioned, taking a step away from the pen. Thor saw that his arms, sleeves pushed up past the elbows, were stained black from the tar of the pen.

"Just walk with me. Hear me—"

"When Sleipnir is finished." Loki cut Thor off, turning coolly back to the pen, where Horst was completing an exercise involving flicking rope over the horse's flanks. Thor gritted his teeth angrily. He understood and accepted that his brother wanted to be with his child, but for thirteen years, Loki had zoned out, ignoring all but his child. _That_ was unacceptable.

"No, Loki. You are coming with me _now_." Thor grabbed Loki's shoulders and wrenched him away from the pen. Loki shouted in surprise and flailed, but he was weakened and ineffective against Thor's strength. Sleipnir, however, was not.

At Loki's cry, Sleipnir snapped out of his concentration, turning fully away from Horst. Horst tried to regain the horse's attention with a sharp call and a flick to the rump with the lead rope, but Sleipnir now devoted his singular focus to Loki. He raised his head, eyes bright and focused on Loki, ears straining forward, nostrils blowing to take in the scent of distress. Realizing the efforts were futile, Horst replaced Sleipnir's halter and reattached the lead rope. He knew exactly how dangerous this animal would be if he got out, agitated.

"Let me go, Thor! Do not be brutish! If you wish to speak, release me!" Loki cried, elbowing Thor in the ribs with his stiletto joints. Thor groaned at the blow, but did not let Loki down. Only when he'd dragged his brother into Loki's chambers and stood firmly in front of the door did he release his bear hug around Loki. Furious, Loki whirled towards his brother, summoning Vaara. Thor leveled a harsh glare at him.

"We both know you're in no condition to weild that, Loki."

"How _dare_ you," Loki growled, his deep voice dangerous. "How _dare_ you shame me so! How _dare _you carry me like a _child_, and interrupt Sleipnir's session!"

"I dare. You ought to be shamed; you have shut your own family out for _thirteen years_, Loki. For a horse!" Thor's anger was clear, but he was doing his best to restrain it. Loki snarled, his face animalistic.

"Not just any horse. Sleipnir. _My_ horse. You cannot take me from him, or him from me." Loki ran his thumb over Vaara's blade, gazing objectivey at the blood that beaded on the pad of his finger.

"Ever since the day that creature was born, he has caused nothing but strife. He is _killing_ you, Loki! Look at yourself!" Thor shoved Loki in front of a mirror, watching with brutal satisfaction as the shock registered on Loki's skull-like features. "He has made you lie, hurt people, and starve yourself! No creature; however beautiful, however precious; is worth that!"

"Beautiful and precious …" the words trailed from Loki's cracked lips faintly as he ghosted his fingers over his face. Suddenly, a shrill neigh echoed around the room, wafting in through the open windows. Loki ran to the balcony railing, as if pulled by an invisible string. He scanned the ground and saw Horst leading Sleipnir back to his field, struggling with the might of the great horse. Sleipnir thrashed, eight legs flying dangerously, and Horst had to dodge artfully to avoid the steel-shod hooves.

"Beautiful and precious," Loki repeated.

"Brother, see sense! You have ensured your colt's survival, it is time to ensure your own. Feed yourself, bathe yourself, return to yourself. Return to _us_. It is not fair to anybody what you are doing; even Sleipnir needs time to be a horse. You hobble him by making him reliant on you," Thor pleaded. Loki turned, and his eyes were filled with sadness. Thor had reached him.

"I-I …" Loki stuttered, hands dropping limply to his sides. Vaara clattered to the floor. "These lies … are eating me alive," he said faintly, voice cracking. "I can't do this any more. Lie to myself that I am not Sleipnir's mother. I lie to everyone with my actions, I hold the lies of the past in my stomach. I hold the lies against Skada in my heart."

"Let them go. Tell the truth, if only to me," Thor begged, dropping to his knees as Loki's knees buckled.

"I love Sleipnir, almost more than myself. Nay—more than myself. He is an innocent, noble creature, better than the soul that sits black and grim in this shell," Loki hugged himself. "I am not good enough for him, or you, or Father, or Mother. They have cast me off for the silver-tongued devil I am. An apology cannot atone for the trust I have betrayed; for the people I have hurt …"

"Then start with those who are closest to you. Skada. She knows your secrets. Show your remorse to her. She cannot hold it against you forever; she will begrudge you one thing if you ask her: forgiveness." Thor reached out and held Loki's thinned wrists to prevent him from striking himself.

"She will castrate me if I approach her," Loki said with a weak smile. Thor's lips tightened as he helped Loki to his feet.

"Maybe that will calm you some, brother," he said jokingly. Loki nodded, staring at the ground. "You pose no immediate threat to her, especially not in this … emaciated state."

"If you say so, brother. I trust your judgement," Loki said in a resigned voice, allowing Thor to lead him to Skada's rooms. With luck, she would be in.

"Lady Skada," Thor said politely, knocking on the tall oak doors. There was a noise inside, like a bolt being drawn back. One bright copper eye appeared in the crack between the doors, surveyed Thor, and opened the door wider. When she caught sight of Loki, though, Skada started to slam the door shut.

"Lady Skada, please reconsider." Thor stuck his forearm in the door, preventing its closure. "I think you would be interested to hear what my brother has to say."

"Oh? Why ought I listen to the barbed tongue of that demon, when all it has done in the past is cut me?" Skada's voice was a sharp hiss that made Loki flinch.

"If you wish, I will be the mouthpiece through which he converses. I will strip the barbs from his words, soften his blows. Does that appease you, lady?" Thor said diplomatically. Skada was silent another moment.

"Barely," she growled, widening the door just enough for the brothers to slip through. Inside the room, it was dim, and dark, bloodred velvet drapes covered the reflective surfaces. The effect was similar to being inside the maw of a giant beast. Skada flopped down into the throne-like chair at the foot of her bed, instantly transporting Thor back thirteen years. She fixed Thor with her curious gaze, but this time her eyes were harder, anger tinting their color. She was hardened, scorched, tempered by Loki's wounds.

"Skada," Loki said softly, his baritone filled with hurt. Skada did not even grace him with her eyes. She spoke only to Thor.

"Tell him he must speak to me _only_ through you."

Loki almost growled in frustration, but complied. "Tell the Lady Skada that I wish to apologize. I was not able to the last time we met."

"Loki wishes to convey his apologies. He was unable to apologize the last time you encountered each other," Thor repeated, feeling stupid. However, if this was the only way Skada would accept Loki, it would have to do. Her smoldering gaze never left his calm, blue eyes.

"What has he done for _thirteen years_? Thirteen years of ignoring me—for what? What is more important than making amends?" Skada hissed.

"I was foolish, I fixated on the only stable thing in my life: Sleipnir. I am a mother, and I feel drawn towards him. I ought not to have ignored everyone. I-I … I am suffering inside, rotting and dying, because these lies I have told and the wounds I have inflicted are festering. The infection sears me, and I am desperately, I am _crawling_, on my knees _begging_ for respite from this burn," Loki kneeled before Skada, hands clasped, head bowed. Finally, her heated stare flickered over his emaciated, prostrated form.

"So you come to me. The Goddess of Destruction, Queen of Chaos, Holder of Fire. You seek _my_ help for burns," Skada said slowly. Loki did not move. "What would you have me, do, God of Lies, _Giant of Ice_? Oh, yes, I know of your lineage. A prince of two realms, a prince of Ice, a prince of paradox. So what would you have the fire do to soothe the ice's burns?"

"Please, please," Loki breathed, "take the sickness from the flames. Call back your heat, and let the water freeze over. Let the ice heal. I beg you for your permission to heal; your forgiveness …"

Skada sighed heavily. "Face me, Prince."

Loki looked up into Skada's eyes. They burned with a myriad of emotions, so many Loki could not untangle them. He felt vulnerable, bared to her searching stare. All he could do was hope that she saw how genuine he was. After many long minutes, Skada looked away. She twisted in her chair, hooking her legs over the arm, turning towards Thor.

"I've seen all I need to. I forgive this devious god. I give him, however, nothing more. I wish to take something that was promised to me over a decade ago. A favor, drawn from my mouth, to be fulfilled, to be paid in full, by Loki Laufeyson." Skada's voice was soft, but the room so quiet. The mellow alto reached everyone's ears with perfect clarity.

"I am ready, Lady Skada. Let the command fall from your lips. I will bear it," Loki said, rising to his feet. Skada watched him carefully, eyeing him like prey.

"I wish …" Skada paused for effect, and Loki held his breath, "never to see nor hear from you again. Thor will not be sent on your behalf, nor will anybody speak to me for you. Prince Loki Laufeyson shall die in mine eyes."

Loki felt his breath catch in his chest, and his heart stutter. It couldn't be happening. She couldn't be so cruel to forgive him, then deny him further healing.

"Skada," Loki breathed, begging her with his miserable emerald eyes. She closed her eyes and stood abruptly, refusing to look at him.

"Go. Go now; I …" Skada covered her face with her hands. "Just leave, Loki."

"Skada," Loki's voice was barely audible, but painful with wretchedness as Thor grasped his wrists and pulled him from the room.

"Speak not my name, Prince," Skada said as the door closed behind the brothers, "it pains me too much, Loki, my love."

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**Yup, the drama went from Skada to Sleipnir back to Skada. I just had to tie up that loose end before we return to the drama of mother and child. I hope you enjoyed this rather angsty foray! I promise, sincerely, that the next chapter will have action. It will have angst, but action abound. Secrets are revealed, lies cast off, and hearts broken apart. Someone's going to lose, but there's no telling who.**


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